are the dead really silent?
Blessed silence fills me when the white one asks her questions of me. So rarely are the spirits around me quiet and at rest. Their pleasure at the celebration of life, the world’s connectedness with itself. Here, with these two I felt the balance and I felt the peace. There was serenity in our gathering as there had been laughter and song in our dance and steps. Once more my eyes open, looking out into the world I saw around me as I contemplated the questions Natu had asked, listening to the lingering words she and Paisley spoke.
I shift to look back at the brindled younger female. The pull in two directions of this world was no stranger to me. More like a consistent friend. Both the women speak of things so earthly, brushing against the fringes of worldly. My time in this realm has been brief. The life I had lived cannot compare to that of Natu. My understanding of it had been gathered by the whispered words that float around me, the senses and sensations of changes in the tunes of life and change. “Nature, nurture, instinct and consciousness. There is a weighted balance in us. It extends to this realm. It is perfect in its imbalance, though dangerous.” I scent the wind, the world around me speaking once again in deafening volumes. “Life here thrives, just as it dies.” The dying of the trees around us are proof of that. I move just so, shifting against Natu’s body, unable to look at her, but my attention shifting to her all the same. These were not the answers most would have given her. But there was something about her home that others might not have picked up on, and she had asked for the insight of fresh minds. The land was indeed beautiful. But the energy of it spoke of lives lived long ago, lives lost to turmoil and taken by death. Whether the death was by the hands of fate or fangs, each story was different. “The wild has its way here.” It was refreshing.
lord; 4 falls; 41in/190lbs; fatelessXheartless; wandering ghost |